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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276574">Call me again (tell me all the stories I think I've forgotten)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amazaria/pseuds/Amazaria'>Amazaria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Angst of some kind, Canon Compliant, Chapter titles brought to you by Aquilo's Silhouette: the fic, Closure, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, People look at Link and are concerned: the story, Repressing your feelings and other things you shouldn't do, Storytelling, The OCs do not matter you don't even know their names, The author's insistent feelings about Link and duty and loneliness, The author's insistent feelings about stories, kinda!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:42:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amazaria/pseuds/Amazaria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Link sleeps, for about a hundred years, and when he wakes up is faced with a mission, a blank in his memory, and grief and despair that were painstakingly etched into the very frame of his being when he wasn't awake.</p><p>The people of Hyrule can't do anything about the first two things, but they just might be able to help on the third.</p><p>(or: Link, the people of the world he fights for, and stories.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Link &amp; Mipha (Legend of Zelda) (mentioned), Link &amp; OCs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. and if you can't remember/and if you can't forget</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>He stumbles out of the Great Plateau with nothing but an axe and a resolve he doesn't dare let go, for fear that if he does, he'll stop moving completely. He follows barely-there paths, spots ruins that are so jarringly unfamiliar he thinks he could be horrified at what they have become, if only he remembered. He doesn't see anyone, reaching for proof of life and only finding the whisper of plants and the endless infinity of a world he's supposed to save but doesn't even know. He follows a muscle memory he's sure is out of date; it leads him through overgrown plains and threateningly silent forests, through hills that end in cliffs, through landscapes that sometimes summon a vague memory, washed-out and hard to look at.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He walks and run and doesn't rest, or only a little; he keeps going forward, wherever forward <em>is, </em>as if fearing something- but he isn't sure what, does not understand what in this world is to be feared, cannot remember how it is different from what it once was. He's battling with his mind with each step he takes, tries to think but must be too used to silence to summon the courage to break it, even in his own head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He reaches a village, just as the sun starts going down, and startles.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The landscapes sometimes summoned memories, but faded, and nonsensical; he could have just as well have imagined it all, his brain desperately trying to fill the space where the rest of his life should be.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The village is-</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wrong.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He doesn't remember what it was; doesn't understand why it feels so uncomfortable, walking in between houses that he almost recognizes, but not quite; stepping aside as if expecting someone to be standing in an empty spot, but <em>who?</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>People pay little attention to him, all engrossed in their routine- what does it feel like, a routine? Did he know, once? He feels out of balance, and has no idea where to reach to steady himself; he's sure he knew how to breathe before, but it seems to have slipped away too.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The village is wrong- but it isn't, or at least it is only to him, and what does that mean? What does that mean, that it is right to everyone else, that he is again alone with thoughts that don't quite match what they're supposed to be? What does it mean, that he's on the outskirts, both longing for and dreading being let in?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He follows a muscle memory that's the only memory he has- it leads him to someone, and he's supposed to know her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He's <em>supposed to-</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ah, Link," she says, hesitantly, like his name is some kind of regret she hasn't paid attention to in some time, or like he's long ceased to be alive and became a memory instead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She tells him he has a mission. He listens out of a feeling of duty, out of a feeling of guilt, out of a feeling that he thinks he might call despair, if only he let himself think about it long enough to dare give it a name and just a little more power.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tries to remember.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>oOo</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He wanders out of Impa's house eventually, clutching the Sheikah tablet in shaking fingers he has long stopped paying attention to. He walks along a clear path that slowly fades away the further along he walks, until he's in front of a wall of stone and about to collapse and absolutely certain that he'll never get back up again if he does.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>(Wouldn't it be funny, if he just gave up?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wouldn't it be funny, if all the people he had to have loved counted on him to save their world, and then he didn't?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wouldn't it be funny, if he was kept alive for a hundred years, for that one purpose, and then he just failed everyone all over again?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wouldn't it be <em>funny</em>?)</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He rests his back against the stone and has run out of things to tell himself, so he just closes his eyes until the darkness steals his breath away and his fingers are clutching the rock much too hard to stop himself from falling asleep.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you okay?" Says someone. "You left Mom's house pretty abruptly. Did she upset you? She does that sometimes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There's a silence, and Link forces his eyes open but can't bear tearing his hands away from what feels like the only steady thing in the world. The rock against his palm is rough, covered in thin moss and fragile plants; it's starkly different from the Sanctuary's smooth and polished stone, and the disparity between them is a comforting weight in the back of his head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Before him stands a middle-aged woman; Impa's daughter, if what he heard is right, Link guesses. Her hair is grey and kept short, and she looks like she's concerned about him, which is maybe the last thing Link feels prepared for.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>(He can handle being a weapon.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Well. He probably can't, actually, if the past days- weeks? are any indication, but it's not really a matter of<em> can you do it, </em>now is it? It's a matter of duty, and promises, and even if he doesn't remember how or why, exactly, those have a particular hold over Link's mind.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>So he can be a weapon, or a savior, or an avenger; however you want to frame it. He doesn't <em>want to</em>, and each breath he takes is drawing him closer to the edge of the cliff in his mind, but if he has to, well, at least that's something to do. At least it means something; at least he has something to do, has a purpose, something to chase away the ever-present grief for something he <em>doesn't even remember.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>So he can pretend to be the Hero, or be the Hero, whatever people want him to be. He can handle that.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He can't handle being a person.)</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You look tired," says Impa's daughter. Link shakes his head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, you do," she retorts, and crouches in front of him. "Like you haven't slept in weeks. Can you even stand upright without collapsing?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link shrugs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You can't," deduces the woman, frowning, instead of taking his non-answer for the <em>go away </em>it is. "Well, you should nap."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link shakes his head more forcefully than before, and clutches the rock harder when that turns out to be a terrible decision.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The woman looks on as he tries not to fall over.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Who even are you? Mom doesn't talk to a lot of people, you know- or well, a lot of <em>strangers, </em>and that you definitely are." When Link stays silent, she sighs. "Why won't you sleep?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link closes his eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Rude," he hears the Sheikah say. "Are you afraid you'll have nightmares?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>(Maybe.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He doesn't want to fall asleep. He did it once -or he must have- and it cost him a 100 years, and his memory, except when it didn't.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He must remember, in his dreams. He must remember, he must know, because he wakes up terrified and guilty and grieving, even more so than usual, and he can never tell why.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>What if he dreams, and he wakes up, and he remembers? What if he dreams, and he wakes up, and he <em>doesn't?</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>(What if he dreams, and doesn't wake up?)</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Does he want to remember all he lost? Is it better, to wander alone, and confused, and aching for something, <em>home </em>maybe, but not to know exactly what it is, the smell and sound and taste of what he once had? Will it hurt more, to know what he lost; to be able to get lost in memories and never want to surface again?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>What if he remembers, and it breaks him?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>What if it doesn't?)</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He opens his eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright," Impa's daughter sighs. She sits in front of him. "I used to tell my daughter a story, when she was little, about nightmares. Do you want to hear it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link stares at her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You want to hear it," decides the woman for him. She sends him a sharp look. "At least sit, it's fairly long."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tears his hand away from the rock and slowly slides down. Once seated, knees folded against his chest, he buries his hands in the grass around him and focuses on the feeling of dirt getting caught under his nails, on the afternoon sun against his arms; on anything except the woman in front of him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"There was a time," she says, "when fairies weren't scared of us."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She sounds practiced, like she's told this a hundred times; like she'll tell it a hundred times more.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It was a long time ago, when magic was even rarer than it is now, when roads hadn't been created yet, when people didn't know enough about the world to have stories. Fairies weren't scared of us, at the time, but that didn't mean they liked us, either; they just were indifferent. Most everything was indifferent to everyone, at the time. Maybe it was a better world than the one we have now, but then again, maybe not. No point in wondering."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link shifts, uncomfortable, reaching for more grass to tear in his hands; the woman notices, but doesn't comment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So fairies weren't scared of us, until they were. The thing was, humans were very vulnerable back then, and fairies were a miracle cure. At some point, someone discovered it, either by befriending a fairy, or just capturing one. And people loved their family, obviously, so they went to search for fairies. Predictably enough, fairies started to mistrust us; started to hide away from children and reject our offerings, milk and apples and other gifts that were just baits, in the end."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>This doesn't sound like a happy story, realizes Link, but stays still. A children's story; surely it can't be that bad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So in return, they invented nightmares. Because that's how they work, right? That's how fairy magic works; it tricks you. It makes you believe you're fine, and suddenly you are. That's why it works whatever the wound, that's why there are no scars. It just tricks your body and mind into being okay, and they can't even help it. It's like those frogs you can find, whose venom just numbs you until you can't feel anything, and so insects don't think to run away because they don't feel anything happening. Except in a positive way, because- well, they don't kill you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She shrugs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Anyway, they made nightmares. Not that we didn't have them before, just- less powerful, if the stories are to be believed. Not as believable. They made nightmares as a way to get justice, for all those they had lost- but it didn't work as well as they must have hoped."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Not a happy story, confirms Link, but doesn't try to get up. There are very few chances he could do more than just stumble his way off a rock and into unconsciousness.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The fairies first aimed nightmares as punishments, for- well, murderers, from their point of view. They were just designed to be scary. Just meant to scare humans away."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She smirks a little.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Except humans have never been good at being scared away. Nightmares could hurt you, sure, but you'd wake up, eventually, and back then that was already a lot. So they just kept going at fairies, and the nightmares kept getting worst and worst, and bigger and bigger. But they were only aimed at those that actually caught a fairy. The thing was- there were already monsters, back then, and people didn't have a sword or any of your fancy equipment. So catching fairies- that was difficult. A lot of work for a reward that wasn't even for you, except it was, of course, because it'd meant your family would survive. Your friend would survive. <em>Someone </em>would survive. That's all people ever cared about, back then."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The woman tilts her head; catches Link's eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Once you caught one fairy, you had little nightmares. If you caught two, they were a little bigger. And on and on, until you could barely sleep at all, just because you cared about people so much. Just because you couldn't bear to watch them suffer. And eventually, if you caught too many- well, the fairies attacked your family, too. People you cared about. People you had sacrificed your dreams for."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There's no grass left to tear anymore. Link clenches his fists until he can feel crescents of pain digging into his palms.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So that's how the story goes. Fairies invented nightmares to chase us away, but humans cared too much to let that get in their way. It's just a story, though." Impa's daughter tilts her head. "If you don't want nightmares, maybe you should care less about your family. But hundreds and hundreds of people have already tried that, and it turns out humans aren't great at not caring. So you can just do the next best thing: sleep, and if you have nightmares, you'll wake up. Remember: they're fairies. They'll never actually hurt you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There's a moment of silence. Then the Sheikah sighs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Now nap, or I swear I'm calling Mom here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link glares at the ground, and then at her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You couldn't stand upright if you tried, you don't scare me. Nap so I don't have your death on my conscience."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>(And Link, stupidly-</p>
</div><div>
  <p>does.)</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. but tonight you're a stranger/some silhouette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second time it happens-</p><p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>The second time it happens, Link is standing under the rain, and feeling like maybe the weight that he's bearing has broken his shoulders, and his spine, and his spirit together with it.</p>
    <p>The second time it happens, Link is staring up at a princess's statue, and trying so very hard to remember anything about her- the first time it happens Vah'Ruta hasn't been freed yet, and Mipha hasn't comforted him yet, and he doesn't understand why he looks at the giant machine shouting its misery to the world and feels like he might die if he doesn't <em>fix it all</em>.</p>
    <p>The second time it happens, he is feeling-</p>
    <p>Alone. Confused. Tired, exhausted, drained; scared and lonely and faced with something so overwhelming the knot in his throat will soon expand to his lungs and fill them up entirely, and he'll drown, but on land.</p>
    <p>(<em>Who are you</em>, he thinks, staring at the smooth sculpture, a hundred years old- <em>who are you? Who were you?</em></p>
    <p>Why do I think of you in the present tense?)</p>
    <p>The second time it happens he has lost everything and doesn't even have the grief to show for it; the second time it happens he knows his name and his duty, and the pain of a laser tearing through his side, but not much else.</p>
    <p>The rain is falling, and he's been staring at a single statue for too long; he's been still for too long, feels like he needs to <em>move, </em>to <em>fight, </em>to- he missed 100 years and sometimes it feels like the weight of this century will drag him right back to sleep if he stops for a single second. But he can't make himself move, his clothes too heavy and his mind missing a direction. There are things to do, promises to keep, even if he doesn't remember making them- but he must have said it, he must have sworn, and at least there <em>is </em>something to do, at least he wasn't woken up to find himself purposeless, useless, with no memories or allies-</p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p>"My mom says you're going to get sick," announces a voice to his right. "Are you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He glances down, and there is stood a Zora child.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He's looking up at Link, frighteningly little and quietly curious. "My mom says she hasn't seen a Hylian in <em>years</em><em>, </em>and that you're being silly staying out here in the rain. She says you'll catch a cold, but I thought maybe you were just asking the Princess for advice!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link blinks, stunned, and looks at the statue again. There is nothing at its feet, no signs of worship or grief beside the ever-falling rain that seems much heavier in the Zora domain than out in the wilderness.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But you still seem sad," frowns the child, like he can't fathom someone still being sad after looking up at a statue of someone that had meant something, once. "Did you know the Princess? Everyone who knew her always looks sad when they see her statue, even though she was so cool that she got to have a <em>statue. </em>I want to have a statue too when I grow up! Or, I guess not, if it'll make my mom sad."</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Did you know the Princess? </em>Swirls around in Link's head. Did he? Does he? A hundred years is so long, the child at his side can't even imagine her alive; a hundred years is so short, people still hate Hylians for killing her.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A hundred years is enough to have forgotten it all. A hundred years isn't enough to have forgotten how to be guilty, and lonely, and grief-stricken, and lost.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My mom said that there was another statue before the Princess's, for the River. Do you miss it? Sometimes I think that maybe my mom just misses her old statue, like how I miss my old toys."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link hasn't looked away from the base of the statue since the start of the conversation; hasn't stopped shivering, hasn't stopped staring and staring and staring as if he could fix everything if he just wished hard enough.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The River isn't gone, you know," says the child again. "My mom told me the story, so I know that! Maybe <em>you</em> didn't hear it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The Zora frowns at him; climbs onto the statue's base and sits at the princess' feet.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay, so- so- first there was a river! Only it wasn't the River yet, it was just a river, and it was in a cave. I guess it was stuck in the cave? Wait, no, it wasn't a river yet, but was a lake, because it was stuck in the cave, right?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He crosses his arms for a moment, and then shakes his head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm starting over. First there was a river! Well, it was a lake, but it wanted to be a river, and anyway lakes are just boring rivers. And it would become the River, soon, but right now it isn't, it's just a river, mom said that was important. Like how I'll be a grown-up eventually but I'm not right now! Even though I'm 7, and that's really grown-up. I think the river was much older than 7 though, and it still wasn't the River, so I guess it makes sense that I'm not <em>grown-up</em> grown-up either."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy swings his legs against the smooth stone, arms gesturing frantically. Link almost reaches out to steady him as he seems to slip from his seat because of the rain, but he catches himself at the last second and smiles bright.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So the river was stuck inside a mountain. And it was sad. Can rivers be sad? It's not the River yet, it can't be sad, rivers aren't sad. Or I guess it can, because it <em>will be</em> the River, so it's special? Maybe it was always going to be the River, so it was always special. Maybe all rivers are special, even if they aren't the River."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The child looks up expectedly to Link, and he can only look back, lost.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy sighs, and gets up, so he's somewhat closer to Link's eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"O-kay," he says, very seriously. "So the River was stuck inside the mountain, and it was sad, because rivers are made of water, and water should be <em>free. </em>But it wasn't, so it waited and waited and waited, until it was so sad that the mountain could feel how sad it was, and the mountain asked "well, why are you sad, this is a beautiful cave!", and the river said, "I want to be free," and the mountain said-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He's gesturing so much he loses his balance. Link reaches out just quickly enough to stop the Zora from falling completely, and the boy grins at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thanks!" He exclaims. "Mom always tells me to be careful, but that's no fun. Anyway, so the mountain told the river that it could be free, if only it wanted it enough. That it had made the cave only because the river's water had been so little when it had started existing, and that it wanted to protect it! But the mountain hadn't meant to make the river sad, so it told it that rock could be worn down by true belief, or something like that! So the river..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy stops abruptly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't remember. I always fall asleep at this part," he mutters dejectedly. "But, but! But the mountain helps it, somehow, and in the end the river becomes the River, and in thanks to the mountain who wanted to protect it, and let it escape, it starts by being a lake like it was in the cave! It goes away after, because it's the River and it has too much to explore to stay here. But that's why we have this great lake with the Princess' Guardian!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link blinks.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The child looks at him, waiting for something. When Link doesn't say anything, he sighs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The River didn't forget the mountain, or us. It made a lake for us!" He enunciates extra-clearly. "So you shouldn't be sad!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link looks at the Princess' statue, wordlessly. Shrugs his shoulder.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh," understands the boy quietly. "You miss <em>her</em>?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link- nods. Missing isn't the exact word, doesn't come close enough to the weight and ache in his heart, but it's close enough.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The child looks up, at the polished statue with its silver jewels, at the only remnant of someone who had once healed Link's wounds, and known him, and worried about him, and is now dead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, maybe it's like the River," suggests the Zora. "Maybe she's gone, but she left something to remember her by, and that's the best she could do."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He jumps on the ground and looks at the lake far away.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She must have been nice," he muses, "for people to miss her so much. Her Guardian hasn't ever stopped crying for her. But it'll have to, right? Mom says crying doesn't fix anything. She says that after I break my toys when I don't listen to her, but still!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy sighs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"One day it'll stop crying, and I'll see the sun for the first time. But if she was very nice- well, I think it's fine that the Guardian's sad. And it's fine if you are, too. One day you won't be, like the River! And until then you can stay in your mountain, until it notices how sad you are, and helps you." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He grins at Link.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The River wasn't sad always, so you won't be, too!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His optimism sounds out of place in the ever-falling rain, but Link smiles hesitantly at him still, and he could swear that the cloud cover lightens for a moment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm late for dinner though," interrupts the child, "and you still didn't tell me if you'd get sick."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link blinks, startled, and shakes his head no. The boy looks satisfied.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Okay," he says, "that's fine then, I'll tell my Mom not to worry. Have a good day, Mister!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And he runs away, as fast as he came.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Link watches him go, and looks back to the Princess's statue, wondering over Prince Sidon's grin and memories he can almost feel brimming under the surface.</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>(</em> <em>Her Guardian hasn't ever stopped crying for her. But it'll have to, right?</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>But if she was very nice- well, I think it's fine that the Guardian's sad. And it's fine if you are, too.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>The River wasn't sad always, so you won't be, too!)</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>And he walks up to the throne room.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Title brought to you by Aquilo's actual lyrics for Silhouette, emotions brought to you by me and my brain. You're welcome</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title of the chapter taken from me mishearing the lyrics to Aquilo's Silhouette and thinking what I heard was cooler than what was actually said</p></blockquote></div></div>
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